The local blacksmith is Das Korvut, of the Red Dog Smithy. The source of the name is obvious, for Das keeps two huge red mastiffs on the premises. As for using his forge, you can tell the man has a raging temper, because you can hear him screaming at one of his customers from down the street! Thinking better of asking him, you remember that there is a very small forge at the garrison. The Sheriff would most likely be more accepting of your request.
The rest of the day passes without incident.
Yelena spends her day as she usual does; meditation and religious study in the morning, followed by her shift on duty at the town constabulary. The hubbub of the attacks during the Festival has resulted in a temporary drop in crime, leaving her with little work. Leaving the town hall, she will go home and prepare for the dinner with Aldern Foxglove. She will then head over to the Hagfish.
For the most part, your day is uneventful, if you don't count the half-dozen guards asking for your help, your companionship, your key, etc.
They have basic knowledge of the goblins of the area. There are 5 tribes in the general environs of Sandpoint, but they've never heard of them getting together like this. They tell you that there is a ranger, one Shalelu Andosana, who is the local expert on the goblin tribes. No one ever knows when or where she will show up, however.
Chask Haladan knows nothing of the goblins in the area. But he tells you that the one to speak to about regional history is Brodert Quink, a local "expert" on ancient Thassilon.
Khalad rubs at his eyes, glares at Torillan for a moment then yawns and loudly exclaims.
'I'm hungry, luckily this Foxglove looked rich.'
"Looks like off to the Hagfish!!" Rogar exclaims after an exuberating day in Sandpoint.
Khalad rubs at his eyes, glares at Torillan for a moment then yawns and loudly exclaims.
'I'm hungry, luckily this Foxglove looked rich.'
Torillan smiles, nodding in agreement with Khalad. "Come along, lad. Let go and see how 'rich' this gentleman truly is...". Ensuring his sword is peace-bonded, he heads downstairs to meet up with the others.
Khalad grins broadly at Torillan, and then follows after, not wearing armor or weapons at all, just a shirt with torn off sleeves, pants and boots. His braided hair clicking with his new goblin fingerbone fetishes.
Gimble thanks Chask Haladan for letting the scholarly gnome spend the day perusing various texts, then heads out to meet his companions at the Hagfish.
When he runs into the others at the Hagfish, the gnome spouts excitedly, "Did you know that there are five tribes of goblins living within the general environs of Sandpoint? But they've never worked together before! So what would lead these various tribes to work together now, and steal Father Tobyn's remains?" The excited young gnome looks thoughtful for an instant, and then pulls out a parchment and quill to write down the question.
"Oh, but there's someone who might be able to shed some light on our mystery!" Gimble adds. "There's a ranger named Shalelu Andosana who supposedly knows A LOT about the local goblin tribes. The only problem is no one knows when or where she'll show up!"
"By the way, do any of you local folks know a Brodert Quink?"
'He lives at the lighthouse in a cluttered little house.'
Khalad turns his wary look on the gnome, always expecting him to burst into flame, or flower, or dragon. Can never be to sure with gnomes.
The Hagfish is one of Sandpoint's most popular taverns - right after the Rusty Dragon - and is primarily populated by the local fisherman and gamblers. It is the best place in town for an excellent seafood meal. Jargie Quinn, a gregarious, one-legged man, has a had a friendly rivalry with Ameiko and the Dragon ever since she took it over six years ago.
Jargie looks up at the door as you enter, the evening sea-breeze causing the smoke inside to swirl past the front of the bar where he is standing.
'Hey-Ohhh!' he calls out in a loud voice, drawing the attention of all within to your entry.
HAAAAYY-OOOOHH!!! The patrons respond, giving you all a rousing rendition of the proprietor's greeting.
A large grin on his face, Jargie pours mugs for all of you, sliding them down the length of the bar. 'One on the Hagfish, and 'ol Jargie!' he says.
The tavern is typical of it's type, dark bar stained by countless hands and elbows, smoky haze, muffled conversations, etc. The one item that does stand out is the large aquarium behind the bar. A hand-carved sign on the tank states simply: "Norah". As you watch, a huge hagfish swims through a murky slime from one end of the tank to the other, seemingly the only living thing in the tavern NOT paying attention to you.
Jargie notices you watching the disgusting fish, and walks over to where a leather pouch hangs from a nail. Tapping on the pouch, he asks 'Care for a swig from the tank? Only a silver to try, and if'n you can hold it down, you win the pouch, and you get yer name in the rafters, fer all time!' Looking up, you can see there are only two dozen-plus names carved into the dark beams of the ceiling.
'Come on now, who's up fer a chance at immortality!'
"Oh...a drinking game...I'll give it a shot!!,can't be any worse then what we have at home" Rogar says as he brandishes a silver.
Grinning widely, Khalad nods his acceptance of the challenge, offering his hand for a tankard.
'Bring it on Jargie!'
Torillan slaps down a silver piece onto the bar, grinning madly.
"I'm in!! he shouts.
Gimble looks quizzically at Jargie, the fish tank, Rogar, Khalad, Torillan, and back at the fish tank. Then he glances toward Yelena sitting at the back of the tavern.
”Um, I think I’ll have what she’s having,” the worried-looking gnome says slowly. Then his expression brightens as he adds, ”Oh, by the way, do you happen to still have any of that lobster chowder that you were serving at the festival?”
A crowd begins to gather around the three who have volunteered to give Norah's tank a go. Jargie takes the three silver and puts them in the leather bag with a knowing grin. He then takes three mugs over to the tank, and lifts the lid.
The first thing that hits you is the smell. A wave of sheer nasty blows through the Hagfish, causing the crowd to start to talking excitedly. That noise grows into a cheer as Jargie reaches each mug into the tank in turn, and each comes out trailing a long thread of mucus.
'Bottoms up, lads.' Jargie says as he slams the three mugs down on the bar. No money 'til it's empty, and it's still "down" if you knows what I mean.'
A glance into the mug tells you that the word "drink" may have to be combined with the word "chew" as the contents of your mug seem to be a clear, viscuous slime. The crowd around Torillan, Rogar, and Khalad is in a frenzy of cheering, betting, and "upheaval" - apparently some can't even stomach the smell.
Torillan cautiously accepts the mug, and, closing his eyes, brings the mug to his lips. Swallowing clean air one last time, he drinks...
Rogar takes the mug, and with a somewhat disgusted look says, "Bottoms up lads!"
'By Gorum!' Khalad roars and drinks heavily from the tankard.
The crowd roars as the three mugs go down, each swallow punctuated by a 'GO! GO! GO! from the patrons around you. The contents slosh out as a whole, causing slime to drip from the sides of each mug.
Finally it's over, and three mugs slam down as one on the bar. The Hagfish patrons pause in their cheering for a moment, watching Jargie eagerly. After a few seconds, he begins counting down:
'Ten...'
'Nine...'
The crowd begins to take up the count...
'EIGHT!'
'SEVEN!'
Your stomach begins to churn as it battles with the self-defense mechanism of the hagfish...
'SIX!'
You can each see that the other is turning a deep shade of green about the face...
'FIVE!'
'FOUR!'
Knuckles white from gripping the bar, it's all you can do keep from heaving the lot. You do know that you have developed an extreme dislike for Jargie, and his damn tavern...
'THREE!'
It crosses your mind that there must have been a lot of failures for Jargie and the crowd to have the timing down to this degree...
'TWO!'
The crowd is in a frenzy, and they begin to back up, giving plenty of room to the three "contestants"...
'ONE!
Each of you feels a swelling from down deep in your stomach, slowly building to an intense pressure that will not stay down. It begins rising, rising, rising, until it heaves itself forth into the room...
Sandpoint's newest heroes let rip with three deep belches in perfect unison. The crowd is stunned at first, most still looking at the floor where they expected to see the results of your "contest". Then they erupt into a wild cheer, surging forward to shake your hands, slap you on the back, and buy you drinks.
Right now the last thing you want is to shake, slap, or drink. And you suspect that this may last a while.
Khalad bares his teeth in a triumphant grin/snarl, despite his green face, then tries to make his way over to Yelena's table.
Rogar roars in triumph, all the while under his breath he says "Almost as bad as Uncle Sals 'kickim' while they're down' brew!!" Taking a mug of ale, he makes his way over to Yelena's table.
Overtaken by a shudder, Torillan exhales slowly, then takes a proffered tankard of ale. He takes a few swigs at the bar to get the Gods-awful taste out of his mouth, then follows the others to Yelena's table.
Downing the last of the ale, he holds up the empty mug, trying to catch Jargie's eyes for a refill.
"Cayden's Balls, but that was awful!!", he grins to his comrades. Quickly realizing his rudeness, he turns to Yelena and says "Oh...uh...excuse me...my apologies..." as he turns a bright shade of crimson.
Yelena smiles, taking another drink. "That's quite alright. I wasn't aware Cayden had any..."
Torillan starts to take a sip of his new mug of ale, just as Yelena responds to his apology. He begins to choke, then roars with laughter at her jest...
Khalad grins widely, the color returning to his face.
'So when is Foxglove due?'
Jargie comes over to the table, the leather bag in hand.
'Never thought i'da seen the day.' he says with a grin. He drops the pouch on the table in front of you. It lands with a loud jingle as it hits. 'Three hunnert an' twenty-eight silver...counting the three you all put in. You all can carve yer names in the rafters any time you feel like.'
He walks away, shaking his his head and muttering: Three. Three! Who'd a-thunk it? Mebbe I gotta get me a new Norah...'
A slim man, the one you recognize as the one from the Rusty Dragon, appears behind Yelena's seat.
'Miss Shukhov,' he begins, and with some effort at controlling his distaste he adds, 'and...friends. Please follow me. Lord Foxglove has arranged for dinner in the private party room.'
Foxglove's servant leads you towards the back of the tavern, where a set door opens into a small hallway. The servant waits for you to pass, and gently closes the door. Immediately the noise from the Hagfish drops to nearly nothing, and there is a definite clearer air about the hall.
'To the right, if you please.'
A set of double doors opens into a small but expensively appointed dining room, with a large table and chairs enough for each of you. The table is set with linen and fine silver, and the dinnerware alone must have cost a fortune. Your eyes are drawn to the candelabra set as the centerpiece, a construct of beautiful silver and gold, with a family crest prominently affixed as its center.
The smell of the food is tantalizing, and it is mixed with a hint of lilac, the entire effect making you all very hungry.
Unless you just drank from a hagfish tank, that is.
'All the way from Absalom.' a voice says. You recognize Lord Aldern Foxglove, indicating the fine table settings.
He rises from his seat with a fluid grace to take Yelena's hand. 'Dearest Miss Shukhov, welcome! May I call you Yelena? You are a vision tonight, humbling myself and my meager preparations.' He leads Yelena by the hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Deftly moving around the table, he sits her at his right hand side.
'Do sit.' He says to the rest of you.
'I like chasing piglets,' Khalad mumbles, just before the smell of the food reaches him.
The smell makes him queasy, but he keeps his face straight and sits in a nearby chair, though he looks rather oversized in it, his large hands dawrfing the cutlery.
'I like chasing piglets,' Khalad mumbles
Feeling a little nautious, Rogar exclaims, "I'm not sure if I can eat right now, let alone run around the place! But if I don't have to go chase the food down it may be easier!"
His stomach still churning, Torillan follows the group quietly, fighting the waves of queasiness.
”What brings you to the Hinterlands?”
”Looking for another dog to get slaughtered?” Gimble asks quietly under his breath. The normally verbose gnome sits uncharacteristically quietly at a corner of the table, as far as he can possibly get from Lord Foxglove .
The meal and drink is very easily the finest you have had, and there seems to be no lack. Foxglove's servants are very efficient, as long as you are eating and drinking, your mugs are never empty, and the plates never clean.
Rogar is enjoying the food and drink, he asks Lord Foxglove "What brings someone o' your stature to a place like this?"
Khalad eats happily, soon forgetting the horrors of the foul fish drink.